Peace and Quiet
by Candaru
Summary: While Thomas stays up late working with Patton and Roman on the latest project, Logan and Virgil take the night off. Their agenda consists of books, a warm fireplace, and silence. (Oneshot, no slash, rated T for safety. Birthday gift for Binary, who mentioned she wanted some platonic Analogical!)


The silence for the past half-hour had only been broken by the _snap-crackle-pop_ of the fire and occasional _swiff_ of smooth paper being turned.

"Hey, L."

The voice was quiet and unobtrusive. Logan looked up from the heavy, leather-bound book he was reading. He didn't reply to the hooded boy on the ground; only waited for him to continue with whatever comment was so important it had to interrupt his studies.

"Did Volume 29 end up in your stack? I can't find it in mine."

Logan turned around to the enormous stack of books by his chair (which he'd defiantly insisted he'd be able to finish by the time dinner rolled around) and glimpsed a glossy, magazine-like paperback looking very out of place in the pile. He picked it up and handed it gently to Virgil, leaning over so he wouldn't have to get out of his chair.

"Here you are. I'm not quite sure how that happened; my apologies."

"Don't worry 'bout it."

After this short bout of dialogue, in what to many people would seem a strange twist of events, the silence resumed. For another full and blissful 47 minutes— not that Logan was counting. His breathing was even and contented while he relaxed in his favorite spot with a rapturous textbook on the feeding habits of mammals. (Apparently, most bats were frugivores, but some consumed insects. He wondered if he could persuade Patton to slip such a fascinating bit of information into the video he was working on.)

A few feet away, Virgil lie with his back against a beanbag and his bare feet strikingly close to the fire. He insisted it was a display of practicality, not edginess, but hadn't been able to provide any explanation when Logan asked why he then didn't wear any socks. Whichever it was, he looked perfectly comfortable flipping lazily through his many old comic books, most of which were still preserved in mint condition. The one currently in his hands featured a dark-haired superhero fighting a giant purple spider on the cover.

It was in this manner that both Sides passed the majority of the evening away, simply enjoying each other's presence while they were each engrossed in their own books. Had Roman or Patton been there, they would've undoubtedly felt the need to press the others into a "group activity," or at the very least turned on some Broadway soundtracks to fill what they apparently considered an "awkward silence." So such a long-lasting peace and quiet was a rare treat, reserved only for the moments when Logan was alone (which never lasted long), or joint hangouts with Virgil (which— though he'd never say it out loud— never lasted long _enough)_.

"LOGAAAAAAAAN! VIRGIIIIIIIIIIL!"

…of course, all good things must come to an end. Logan let out a deep sigh as he closed the book he was reading and looked up.

"Hello, Patton. You seem in good spirits; I trust your time has been productive?"

Patton, wearing his familiar cat hoodie and a wide grin, came bouncing into the room with a similarly-pleased Roman on his tail. He skipped first over to Virgil, squeezing him from behind, and then leaned over to pop Logan's bubble of personal space.

"It went GREAT! Whatcha readin', even Steven?"

"My name isn't—" Logan started with a huff, but Roman interrupted.

"I think even _you'll_ be pleased with how much work we got done," he claimed, brushing some nonexistent dust off his shoulder. "This video was a true stroke of creative genius, if I do say so myself."

"Well, I'm… pleased to hear that," Logan coughed.

"What did you two do while we were away?" Patton asked eagerly. "Wait, let me guess! Fight a dragon? Roast marshmallows over a fire? Convince a dragon to make the fire to roast the marshmallows?"

"Sit and brood over ways to take over the world?" Roman jumped in, but his tone was joking… probably.

"Ha-ha. We just read," Virgil said, not looking up from his comic book.

"For over an _hour?"_ Roman gasped. "Impossible! _Logan_ might be capable of such feats of… ermm… _monotonous boredom—_ but I'd hoped even _you_ had standards."

Before Virgil could reply to the slight, Roman tossed him a small velvet pouch with a yawn.

"Oh, and you'll need this for when you enter towards the end of the video. It's purple eyeshadow; I picked it out myself." He flipped his hair and then extended a hand to Patton. "Well, if these two are going to be such Debby Downers—"

"I happen to _like_ reading," Logan interjected, though he was ignored.

"—we may as well go let Thomas know we can help him make dinner before bed."

"Ooh, Thomas loves when we help cook!" Patton exclaimed. Then, quickly, he added, "If you two are good in here…?"

"Quite," Logan replied, and Virgil grunted in affirmation.

"Alrighty then!" the dad said cheerfully, and joined hands with Roman to skip back out of the tiny room. "See you later, calculator!"

Logan couldn't help but smirk at the nickname while he watched the most rambunctious Sides chattering away as they left. There was a pause as their conversation faded out.

"Did _you_ feel like fighting a dragon?" Virgil asked, only now removing his eyes from his comics to look up at Logan.

"Definitely not," Logan replied, thumbing through his book until he found his bookmark.

"Thank Heavens."

The two snickered silently for a moment; then each resumed perusing his own literature. It occurred to Logan as he read how truly grateful he was to have another Side who _didn't_ always feel like running off and slaying dragons— it was kind of nice to know he wasn't alone in his interests.

He didn't say anything about that out loud, of course, but he didn't need to. After all, Virgil didn't say anything either.

Until Thomas called everyone in for dinner, the silence was only broken by the _snap-crackle-pop_ of the fire and occasional _swiff_ of smooth paper being turned.


End file.
